


Beauty and the Beast (Until I Find Something Clever)

by TheAnonymouse2



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Dromura is my life, F/M, Let's pretend it's the second, Okay let's see how this goes, This is either the best idea I've ever had or the stupidest, hmmmmm i hate this, somebody fucking shoot me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:45:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnonymouse2/pseuds/TheAnonymouse2
Summary: If you ever asked Nomura if she was happy, she would say yes.So would anyone who had ever visited her lavish home, that, though on the outskirts of Troll Market, could be seen for miles.If you asked any of her staff, they would say that yes, she certainly seemed to enjoy the grand parties and rich meals that they themselves would toil endlessly to craft, so naturally she would be fairly happy.And that was all well and good. She was better off than the majority of trolls she knew, and a well known fact about Nomura was that she had more than she could ever use or want.Another fact about Nomura, however, was that she was a fantastic liar.So good at her craft that she could deceive everyone she knew.But she could never deceive herself.-~-~-~-~Or the Dromura Beauty and the Beast AU you didn't know you needed. Because you don't need it.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay then let's see how this goes. I just wanted this idea out there. Probably gonna edit this later but again, just wanted this out there. I'm a really impatient person.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you ever asked Nomura if she was happy, she would say yes.  
> So would anyone who had ever visited her lavish home, that, though on the outskirts of Troll Market, could be seen for miles.  
> If you asked any of her staff, they would say that yes, she certainly seemed to enjoy the grand parties and rich meals that they themselves would toil endlessly to craft, so naturally she would be fairly happy.  
> And that was all well and good. She was better off than the majority of trolls she knew, and a well known fact about Nomura was that she had more than she could ever use or want.  
> Another fact about Nomura, however, was that she was a fantastic liar.  
> So good at her craft that she could deceive everyone she knew.  
> But she could never deceive herself.  
> 

If you ever asked Nomura if she was happy, she would say yes.

So would anyone who had ever visited her lavish home, that, though on the outskirts of Troll Market, could be seen for miles.

If you asked any of her staff, they would say that yes, she certainly seemed to enjoy the grand parties and rich meals that they themselves would toil endlessly to craft, so naturally she would be fairly happy.

And that was all well and good. She was better off than the majority of trolls she knew, and a well known fact about Nomura was that she had more than she could ever use or want.

Another fact about Nomura, however, was that she was a fantastic liar.

So good at her craft that she could deceive everyone she knew.

But she could never deceive herself.

She had a grand castle, yes, constantly glimmering on the horizon with more rooms then she could use.

She had an outfit for every day of the year, and then some, not to mention the portion of her closet solely devoted to her jewels.

And yes, she had many servants whose very job it was to make her life more convenient.

But the halls of her house were empty except for the servants, and the many guests at her balls could hardly be considered her friends.

Part of this was her own fault. (Well, more than part.) While trolls weren’t the most sociable creatures, Nomura herself went far out of her way to push others away. She was cold and sometimes even downright cruel to her staff. Her parties served only to show off her wealth and further her reputation in their society as someone who can afford a ball every month. She mingled at such events only as necessary, and danced only with powerful trolls whose good graces she wished to be on the receiving end of. All the flirting and laughing and smiling wide was only to further her position on the metaphorical food chain.

Everything she did was a power play, in the interest of her and her ever growing wealth.

Nomura knew she wasn’t happy. She knew why she wasn’t happy. But she didn’t care. Even if she was cold-hearted, lonely, and unhappy, she would go down in troll history for being rich and influential. And if there was one thing Nomura wanted more than her own happiness, it was to be remembered.

Until one day, her isolation and cruelty changed her life, and not for the better.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It was after one of her famed balls. The musicians’ instruments had long been packed up, and the last of the guests had been ushered out the door. Nomura stood in the foyer, recollecting the night’s events and surveying her servants as they carried away the dirtied wine glasses and scrubbed away the scuffs on the floor.

Nomura was fair by troll standards, tall and slim with a flowing mane of dark hair and stone-like skin in a very un-stone-like shade of magenta. It was her eyes, however, that all she entertained frequently remarked upon. Most troll’s eyes came in shades of yellow or red, with dark pupils. Hers were a bright, flashing green, with cat-like slits that gave off a very unnerving and captivating feel as they narrowed and widened with the flickering light of the darkening heartstone in the distance, signaling night was nearly upon the trolls in their subterranean dwelling.

The doors had just closed as the last guest, an up and coming soldier in the consistent fight against the Gum-Gums bordering Troll Market. Barely had they been shut for a second when with a loud bang, they were flung open, slamming against the walls with unsettling force.

That irked Nomura, and she cared more about whether any damage had been done to her doors then the figure slinking in.

It was smaller than a troll, with hunched shoulders and a strange blue garment cloaking it’s upper half. The creature had spindly legs, pale, soft looking skin, and a crop of dark hair falling over a face that was definitely not troll-like.

Nomura recognized what it was immediately. She had seen illustrations of such...creatures in her books of the lands above. She reacted with appropriate disgust.

“Fleshbag.” She hissed, stalking towards the small thing. She grabbed it by it’s queer blue top and scowled at it’s quivering form.

“Please, don’t eat me.” It stammered out, it’s voice thin and high.

“And why shouldn’t I?” She snarled. In truth she had no interest in eating it. But why not instill terror in this fleshbag who dared intrude upon her home.

“I-I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just need some food. P-please. I don’t know where I am, I’m surrounded by these-these monsters...I need someone to help me.” It stammered.

Nomura snorted, half in amusement, half in disgust.

“I’d sooner help a goblin than you, fleshbag. You things are repulsive.” She flung it down, voice oozing with contempt. “Get out of my sight before I devour you.”

Surprisingly, the fleshbag did not crawl away, whimpering. It didn’t sob. It didn’t retaliate and try to fight her. It just rose, slowly, to it’s feet, looking Nomura directly in the eyes.

Then there was a flash, brilliant, blinding, a violently bright blue. Nomura stumbled backwards, covering her eyes with her claws. 

When the light faded, spots danced in her vision. She was disoriented, but barely got a moment to recalibrate before a sword was pressed against her neck.

“A shame.” the fleshbag spoke, only something was different. The voice was not frightened, not weak, but strong and slightly intimidating. As her vision returned, Nomura saw the fleshbag in front of her, still smaller than her, still slight in frame and squishy, but garbed in armor, the likes of which she had never seen.

It was silver, shining silver, with intricate blue designs running through. The sword the fleshbag held was larger than it, but wielded with confidence.

“What is this foolishness?” She snarled, pushing the sword away by the flat edge. Immediately she regretted it. Searing pain shot through her hand and she shrieked, recoiling. Her palm was steaming, tinged faint gray. She clenched her fists as the pain faded, gritting her sharp teeth angrily. “Who are you?” She growled, eyes narrowed at the fleshbag in front of her, the fleshbag who controlled this strange power with ease. The sword was lowered, and Nomura swore she saw mirth dance in the fleshbag’s eyes.

“Nothing but a repulsive fleshbag.” It laughed then, laughed at perhaps her expense and definitely his words. As if such repetition of her speech was amusing.

“What do you want with me?” Nomura controlled her voice, keeping the fear out and showing only her indignance and anger.

“My intentions are only good!” The fleshbag grinned crookedly, swinging his sword behind his back, where it disappeared in a flash of light. “I am here to show you the error of your ways.” It held a hand out to her, to help her up, perhaps. As if she needed his assistance.

“So you won’t hurt me?” A simple question. 

“No!” It sounded honest enough. Against her better judgement, Nomura took it’s hand, tentatively, rising slowly. If it’s intentions were ‘only good’, there could be no wrong in accepting his assistance. Perhaps it could be her ally. A powerful ally indeed, with it’s strange sword.

“Good.” Nomura said carefully, mind analyzing this fleshbag and how she could coerce it to some level of positive acquaintance. Such a ‘friend’ would bring her fame up, and she would be feared for certain.

“That is,” it spoke again, small hand still wrapped around hers, light eyes boring directly into her soul. “Depending on what your definition of pain is.”

And then it’s hand became warm, uncomfortably warm, then burning hot, searing her stone flesh. The fleshbag began to glow again, still smiling, and as the light became unbearable yet again, Nomura’s eyes fluttered shut and she lost consciousness.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Nomura was in her room, lying on the floor. In front of her lay a crystal, humming with violet light. Next to it lay a note. Blinking the grogginess from her eyes, she stood falteringly. She felt so...unstable. The room around her, so familiar, seemed to be off, out of proportion. Had her bed always been this large?

She stumbled unsteadily to her vanity. Leaning her weight against the furniture, she glanced in the mirror. And screamed.


	2. Draal, Son of Kanjigar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could someone so bold be so broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yay, two chapters in one day! My posting schedule is sporadic at best, at worst nonexistent. If I have something I want to share, I'm gonna share it as soon as possible. Let's hope I don't run out of steam for this story.

To begin, let’s direct your attention away from Nomura in her crystal castle. Travel with me now across the dusty cavern floor, across time itself as years pass, crumbling the old tunnels into dust and digging new ones, past camps filled with dark hulking beasts yearning to feast on flesh and bring ruin to this place, and down a stony slope to Troll Market. 

Now, look past the glowing crystal formations embedded in the rocky walls, past the painted signs and merchants hawking their wares of dead cats and gnome cleaning, and follow me to where a young blue troll is walking down the streets, oblivious to most anything but himself.

And why shouldn’t he be? After all, he was arguably the most important troll in the market. He was Draal the Destroyer, warrior, son of the great Kanjigar the Courageous. Strong, fast, skilled, years of training to pick up his father’s mantle as a soldier against the Gum-Gums had left their mark on his physique, a fact he was wholly aware of. 

At least, that’s what you would hear from him if you stumbled upon him in any crowd, loudly regaling everyone present with tales of his exploits.

His fellow trolls were less impressed with Draal the self proclaimed ‘Destroyer’ than he was.

Ask anybody but Draal, and they would tell you that yes, he had great skill in battle, but his pretentious ways and arrogance set him up for failure, at least socially.

Not one troll in Troll Market would call themselves Draal’s friend, and the evoking of his very name would incite sighs and eye rolls all around.

None of the trolls in Troll Market were particularly subtle with their opinions. It was not exactly a secret that Draal was not well liked. 

Even he knew it. Of course he would still tell any outsider of his fame throughout Troll Market.

The picture painted of Draal by his…acquaintances, if such a word could be used, is a rather negative one altogether.

Of course, anyone who was not Draal himself would have no way of knowing that this arrogant facade was brought on by insecurities. That the boastful blue giant lay awake at night wondering if he could ever live up to his father’s legacy. Wondering if his father would recognize his potential. Wondering and wondering and wondering and tearing himself up, only to rise in the morning, don his outward persona, and exude all the confidence he didn’t have.

No one would ever guess that, not in a million years, at least not the emotionally un-perceptive trolls who dwelled in Draal’s subterranean home.

Because how could someone so bold be so broken?


	3. Kanjigar and the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanjigar carefully stepped toward the castle. Perhaps it’s inhabitants were friendly, if there were any inhabitants. If not, there could still be enough abandoned...well, anything really, perhaps curtains or blankets?...that he could use to fashion a makeshift bandage for his arm.  
> So he set off across the abandoned courtyard, dust swirling up after each footstep, until he reached the door.

The only thing Kanjigar could hear was his own labored breathing and heavy footfalls as he trampled through the rocky terrain.

Oh, and the growls and roars and stomping and crashing from the Gum-Gum troop behind him.

He could hear that too.

His memory was fractured. He could barely recall getting into this position. Him and his troop of soldiers were preparing to attack a Gum-Gum camp, that much he knew. Then dark forms rose from the bushes, and from there he only recalled the screams of his fellow warriors, and from there only broken fragments of pain and terror. 

And now here he was, frantically scrambling along this godforsaken path to who knows where with Gum-Gums on his tail, not to mention the gaping wound across his right shoulder.

Life had never been worse.

(Well, except for maybe that time his idiot son ate a rock. That had been awful.The fool had nearly choked to death before Kanjigar dislodged it. And right in front of Vendel to. Sometimes Kanjigar wondered why he had even bothered to reproduce. Had he known troll children were so infathomably stupid he would have abandoned his wife years ago.)

Of course, Kanjigar would rather be in that admittedly embarrassing situation than here. 

He kept his eyes on the ground, fueled on adrenaline and panic. He could practically feel the Gum-Gums foul breath on his back, could see the monstrous form of their leader jumping in his path and slaughtering him without even batting a glowing red eye.

Perhaps it would have served him better to utilize his vivid imagination at some other point, because then Kanjigar the Courageous would not have slammed into a huge stone pillar, decorated with intricate carvings and attached to a wrought iron gate.

Reeling from the pain, he whirled his good arm frantically to regain balance. 

Vision shifting hazily, Kanjigar took only a moment to survey the hulking gray mass of a castle in front of him before, on an instinct he was amazed he could fulfill, woozy and weak as he was, rammed his left shoulder into the gate, slamming it open.

It took him barely a second to stumble through the now open gate, shove it closed, and fumble with the bent padlock that had popped open.

Then he dove into a stylized shrub in the shape of a gnome and lay still, breath still coming out in labored puffs, as his enemies thundered right past the castle, seemingly unaware of it’s existence.

Only one paused, the large one that had wounded Kanjigar. Soulless eyes narrowing, he sniffed the air once, twice. Kanjigar tensed as the other troll’s jagged face hardened, turning his way slowly. 

With bated breath, he was highly aware of his every movement, every twitch, every breath, and how they were most likely going to get him killed.

The black troll, still sniffing the air in a way that would be borderline comical if it weren’t such a stressful moment, was directly outside the gate now, each step he took bringing Kanjigar closer to a heart attack.

And then, by Deya’s grace, the hulking beast scowled, shook his head, and whirled around angrily, bounding after his brethren in the distance, who were no doubt remarking, (and possibly rejoicing) at his disappearance.

Kanjigar waited to the count of a hundred before he dared stir. He had held his breath so long it was a miracle he hadn’t passed out.

Cautiously, he exited the bush, on high alert for any more lingering Gumm-Gumms.

Thankfully, there were none.

There was, however, a giant stone castle jutting out of the rocky ground, walls a foggy grey and windows dusty and riddled with holes.

Kanjigar carefully stepped toward the castle. Perhaps it’s inhabitants were friendly, if there were any inhabitants. If not, there could still be enough abandoned...well, anything really, perhaps curtains or blankets?...that he could use to fashion a makeshift bandage for his arm.

So he set off across the abandoned courtyard, dust swirling up after each footstep, until he reached the door.

(If he was to recount this tale to anyone, he would most definitely withhold the part wherein in scaling the stairs to the door he tripped, landed on his injured arm, and slid back down to the bottom at least three times before successfully reaching the top.)

The doors were surprisingly unlocked, and led into a grand foyer, tiled floors gray with dust and windows shattered. There was yet another staircase awaiting him in the foyer, at the sight of which he decided to explore the bottom of the castle before attempting the top floor.

To his right was some form of sitting room, oddly enough, with a fire crackling cheerfully. The light cast odd shadows around the room, and Kanjigar swore he saw some of them move, heard the skittering of some creature, maybe a gnome? Whatever the case, it unsettled him more than he would care to admit, but there were some curtains, fine lilac ones, the color barely discernable through the cobwebs and dust.

Kneeling hesitantly, he gathered up the drapes and ripped off a large piece, with no little effort of course, given his one functioning arm. The sickening sound of ripping fabric echoed through the castle, and Kanjigar again swore he heard the distinct sound of footsteps, angry and deliberate, coming his way.

He shrugged it off as his imagination, because he didn’t need to try to conjure up any irrational images of what else could be in the castle.

He gathered up his ripped piece of fabric and stood, turning.

And stopped in his tracks at the strange, shadowy figure in front of him.

Kanjigar froze. Probably just a lamp, or maybe a strange coatrack. He reassured himself.

But then it spoke, spitting out each word in a way that made Kanjigar’s blood run cold.

“What,” It hissed, stepping towards the giant blue troll who stood as still as if a ray of sunshine had turned him to stone.

“Are you doing in my house?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the bit with Draal eating a rock. My sister likes to scroll through my docs and make edits to my stories, and this one made me smile too much to delete.


	4. Draal Finds His Father, and More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a slim hope based on little evidence. It didn’t make too much sense. But Draal needed to find his father and earn those fatherly words of praise he had dreamed of since as long as he had had dreams.
> 
> So, throwing logic, reason, and survival instincts to the wind, Draal slammed his shoulder into the gates, flinging them open, (remarked on what a stupid security choice such a thin, obviously fragile gate was), and entered the dark, foreboding, mysterious castle without a plan and only a vague idea of what might possibly be in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had a different idea in mind for this chapter. But after writing the first few lines, I knew it wasn't working. So I just merged part of that chapter into this one. So here ya go.

Kanjigar had been gone for far too long, that much Draal was certain of.

It was supposed to be a simple intelligence gathering mission. Maybe a bit of sabotage if necessary, but nothing that would keep Draal’s father and his brave troop of soldiers away for nearly a week.

Which was how long they had been absent.

It’s not that Draal was particularly concerned. (Even though he was). He knew his father was an extremely capable warrior. Unless something had happened to Kanjigar’s sword hand, the troll would be perfectly able to handle anything the Gum-Gums could throw at him.

And yet Draal still couldn’t abandon the nagging feeling that something had gone wrong. There was no good reason for Kanjigar to be gone this long.

Draal could have simply waited a few more days, trusting his father to take care of himself. It would have been very simple for him to just calm down, distract himself, stop worrying and wait for Kanjigar to come back.

So very easy.

But, of course, Draal was never one to bother himself with patience.

So naturally, we find Draal far from Troll Market, traipsing through the same rocky path his father had run frantically across just a few days ago.

With nothing but a bagful of socks and a canteen of water, Draal was making good time. He could barely see the faint glimmer of Troll Market’s heartstone from where he was. To occupy himself on the boring trek, Draal occupied his mind with scenes of when he found his father, perhaps surrounded by Gum-Gums, fought them off, and won some words of praise from Kanjigar. There were also scenarios he conjured wherein his father was perfectly fine and very upset with his son for leaving Troll Market and having such little faith in his father’s abilities, which, admittedly, were far more realistic.

 

Soon, night, inevitably, fell. (That is to say, the faint glow of the heartstone in the distance faded, as did the glowing quartz crystals studding the tunnels.)

And Draal, inevitably, came to a stopping place.

Which was where the problem lay.

Draal hadn’t actually planned as far ahead as nightfall. He had just assumed he would venture out, find his father, rescue him, and return to Troll Market in a few hours.

Which, he realized now, was perhaps maybe possibly a bit foolish, in the fact that if it had been nearly a week since Kanjigar departed, naturally one would assume that he would be a few days out in the rocky wasteland.

So maybe he was in a bit of trouble.

Especially considering that the lone blue form of Draal was smack in the middle of Gum-Gum territory. Sleeping exposed out here would be highly risky with the dark trolls prowling.

Okay then. Draal just needed to find somewhere to sleep that was relatively hidden. 

Or just not sleep at all, which was looking like it would have to be the case.

It was rapidly becoming too dark to see, and Draal found himself squinting through the shadows.

If he could just find a cave, maybe. A cave hopefully not inhabited by Gum-Gums. Or, he thought with a snort, maybe he’d just run into a giant uninhabited ca-

WHAM

Draal’s thought was cut short as he ran into a giant, uninhabited castle.

“Ack!”

Stone-like troll skin or not, Draal would be a bit sore for the rest of the night.

He took a step back. If troll’s understood irony, the situation would have been fairly amusing. As it was, however, he was more than a bit annoyed.

And he had dented the wrought iron gate even more. Now he really hoped this place was uninhabited.

Wait.

Dented it even more?!?!

Draal could see the small bend in the bars where metal and troll had collided, but one of the pillars to the right of the gate, (which he was going to count as part of the gate), had a huge crack running down it, beginning at about the same height as Draal’s head.

The damage was pretty severe, most likely caused by someone ramming into the pillar at full speed.

Who would be running out here? And what from? (Well, the last part was simple. Gum-Gums. As for the first part…) Most likely a soldier sent to spy on the Gum-Gums, who was seen and chased.

Like, oh...perhaps...Draal’s father.

It was a slim hope based on little evidence. It didn’t make too much sense. But Draal needed to find his father and earn those fatherly words of praise he had dreamed of since as long as he had had dreams.

So, throwing logic, reason, and survival instincts to the wind, Draal slammed his shoulder into the gates, flinging them open, (remarked on what a stupid security choice such a thin, obviously fragile gate was), and entered the dark, foreboding, mysterious castle without a plan and only a vague idea of what might possibly be in there.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The castle was as mysterious and shadowy on the inside as it appeared from the outside. Dust collected in every corner, and the castle, while probably once beautiful, was derelict and unkempt now.

Draal had only enough time to enter and take a quick appraisal of his surroundings before he heard shouts coming from below his feet.

Indignant, angry shouts, full of threats and curses. Shouts that Draal immediately recognized as his father’s. 

The shouts were coming from below his feet; there must be a dungeon of sorts down there, or perhaps a really ominous basement.

Draal was running across the tiled floor before he knew it, bursting into every room and following every hall to it’s end to locate his father. He was so set on his search, he didn’t hear the voices, didn’t feel the eyes on him from every room.

It took a few minutes of tearing through the house, screeching Kanjigar’s name, before Draal finally happened upon a wooden door that opened into a cobwebby stone staircase spiralling down into pure darkness. 

And the shouts were emanating from that darkness.

So, again with errant lack of caution and hesitation, Draal charged down the stairs.

His father was there, in a prison cell with thick iron bars, thicker than the ones on the gate. The cell was cramped, with more dust and cobwebs.

“Father!” Draal cried, running to the cell door.

“Draal! What in Deya’s name are you DOING here?!?!?!” Kanjigar roared.

Not exactly the enthusiastic greeting he was hoping for, but certainly there would be time for a touching reunion later.

“I’ve come to rescue you.” Draal, slightly put out, did his best not to snap at his father. That wouldn’t earn him fatherly pride in this situation.

“NO, you FOOL. You must leave right now! Before she finds you!” The words were half hissed, half yelled, all anger and frustration as Kanjigar frantically shooed his son away with frantic hand movements..

“Who’s coming, father? Whoever trapped you here? Don’t worry, I’ll fight them, I’ll kill them, I’ll-”

“SHE’S COMING, you IDIOT!!!” Then Draal realized that his father’s gaze was directed behind his son, at the staircase, where something was descending the stone steps with slow, deliberate footsteps.

Whirling around, he was just in time to see a portion of shadows break off off the shadows in the staircase, stepping into the dim torchlight that lit the dungeon.

Draal was not expecting the strange thing that was in front of him.

“Well, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

And it SPOKE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know a lot about how troll schedule's work, so let's just pretend they sleep at 'night' and are awake during the 'day', both being determined by the glow of the heartstone, at least in this AU. Also, I know Gum-Gum is spelled Gumm-Gumm, but I spell it with one m in each 'gum' because it bugs my sister a lot and I live to annoy her. (And for Dromura.)


	5. Draal Saves His Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well of course.” The creature smiled. “I may be repulsive, but I’m not a monster.”
> 
> And she went up the stairs. Draal, mindlessly, followed, wondering how much of that statement was true.

Draal gritted his teeth, “Let my father go!” He snarled.

The creature laughed harshly.

“Now why would I ever do that?” It shook its head mockingly, “I'm afraid your dear father has trespassed on my property, an unforgivable offense.”

Draal growled. 

“So this is your castle then?”

The creature nodded, what was probably the equivalent of a leering smile plastered on it’s pale face.

“You can call me Miss- well, I doubt you’ll be calling me anything. Because I expect you gone from this castle immediately.”

“And my father?” Draal scowled. Apparently the thing was female. Not that it mattered much. 

“Father?” The creature glanced between Kanjigar and Draal, a single brow(?) raising. “The armored troll stays here in my dungeon. Be thankful I’m releasing you instead of killing you on the spot. Of course, the Gum-Gums will take care of you soon enough.” The creature was definitely smiling now, wolfishly.

“I’m not leaving without my father.” Draal said firmly, meeting the creature’s emerald gaze.

“Then you can both die, for all I care.” The creature spat, eyes narrowing.

Draal took a defensive position. He would have to fight his way out, then. Ah well.

But then another voice, strangely accented, hissed at the creature from the stairwell. The creature whirled, muttered something angrily to whoever was hiding in the stairs. A whispered conversation ensued, too quiet for Draal to make out the words, but annoyance was evident in the creature’s face as it turned back to Draal.

“If you’ll allow me a sidebar?” She spoke, before ducking back into the stairwell. Draal heard her footsteps recede back up the steps.

“Draal.” His father spoke, sounding more tired this time. “Why did you come here?”

“To save you.” Draal said, trying to keep confidence in his tone, though he was clueless as to how to proceed now.

“Fine job you’re doing, too.” Kanjigar grumbled, the anger reappearing.

“Well I’m sorry I’m not the son you want. But like it or not, I’m going to get you out of here, and maybe then you can recognize that I’m good for something other than screwing up and choking on rocks!” Draal shouted then. It took all his control not to continue, to rant all the anger and remorse he had been harboring. Because that would seem weak, and he was not going to be weak in front of the most courageous troll of their time. 

“Son…” Kanjigar obviously wanted to say something. Draal wasn’t ready for it. Not yet.

“No.” Draal turned away from his father. “I’m going to save you, I’m going to SHOW you what I’m worth.” And then you can talk to me. And then, if only for a moment, you can be the father I’ve always wanted.

So they stood in silence, stewing in their emotions, father and son, waiting for the creature to return and deliver them their fates.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“You want me to what?!?” Nomura hissed angrily, scowling at her castle maitre’d.

“It’s really quite simple. I don’t see why I have to explain it again, but if I must…” The maitre’d took a deep breath, probably to repeat his grand scheme.

“I know what you said, it was more of a ‘what’ of incredulous disbelief. Please don’t say that all again.” Nomura sighed, rubbing her forehead. Sometimes she found it exhausting to deal with certain members of her staff’s foreign tendencies.

“Much as you are inclined to disagree with my romantically-blinded friend, Mr. Skaarbach has a fair point.” Another voice broke in, this one deeper with a hint of an accent, very refined. “You want to break the curse, he wants to save his father. And I would really appreciate not being a clock for the rest of my days.”

Unfortunately, both of Nomura’s staff had a point. Exhausting and pride-wounding as it was, if she wished to live again, truly live, she would have to listen to the fools.

“Fine. But I will remind you none of this has ever worked in the past. i don't know why you keep insisting on this." Nomura hissed, turning and leaving. 

The maitre’d and his companion watched her go placidly. 

“This is doomed.” The second sighed as soon as Nomura was out of sight.

He turned to the maitre’d, frustration evident in his eyes.

“We’re all doomed.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“New plan.” Draal heard the creature say as she came back down the stairs. Pointing to Draal as she turned the corner, she continued her statement. “You’re staying.”

Draal blinked. That certainly put a hitch in his plan.

“And you will let my father go?” 

The creature waved a hand dismissively. 

“If you wish.” Crossing the room, she withdrew a key from behind her back (perhaps there was a pocket there?) and unlocked the cell Kanjigar was in.

The bars swung open with a prolonged creak. Hesitantly, Kanjigar stepped out.

“Draal…” Here it was, the moment Draal hoped for since he was born. He moved closer to his father.

“...Yes?”

“I-” Kanjigar’s face contorted as he stammered. “I-I’m…”

“Touching farewells.” The creature interrupted, sounding bored. “Say your goodbyes, ‘Draal’. Only a few seconds before your daddy has to leave.”

“Draal, I’m so...I’m…”

Say it father, say it! Draal’s mind screamed. 

“Tick, tock, tick, tock.” The creature droned.

“I’m proud of-”

“Time’s up!” The creature snapped suddenly. 

And in a blink of violet light, Kanjigar was gone and Draal found himself alone in the dungeon with the small fleshy creature who’s green eyes glowed faintly with violet light.

“NO!” Draal roared, rushing to the place his father had stood. He whirled on the creature, glaring with all the fury he could muster. “WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS MY FATHER?!?!”

The creature looked at him impassively. 

“He’s just a little ways away from Troll Market. Now come. Let’s get you to your rooms.”

“Rooms?” Draal felt his fury fizzle out a bit. His father was safe, at least, assuming he could trust this thing. But then again, it wasn’t if he had a choice.

“Well of course.” The creature smiled. “I may be repulsive, but I’m not a monster.”

And she went up the stairs. Draal, mindlessly, followed, wondering how much of that statement was true.


	6. Draal's New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Um.” Draal mumbled. This was all very much the most confusing place he had ever been.
> 
> “Oh, of course!” The little thing smacked it’s waxy equivalent of a forehead. “I’m Mr. Skaarbach, but you can call me Otto.” It held out it’s wax hand, probably for Draal to shake.
> 
> “Um.” Draal still had no clue what was happening. He was being shown to his rooms...by a candelabra?
> 
> “Right! Of course! You’re right!” Shaking it’s head, the candelabra, (Otto?) shook it’s head, retracting the hand. It took a moment to blow out the flame with it’s little metal mouth, then stuck it’s hand out again.
> 
> Draal bent down and shook it. (Well what else was he supposed to do?!?) He dully noted the wax left on his hand and wiped it off surreptitiously on the wall, which coated his hand with dust. He ignored it.

The silence was uncomfortable, but it gave Draal time to study the enemy. 

The creature’s frame was slight and, Draal realized as they stood next to each other (with a comfortable margin of about twenty gnomes), she was actually quite small, barely coming up to Draal’s elbow.

Her fur was short and dark, reflecting the light in a very distracting way. (Draal really wanted to touch it. But not in a creepy way. It just looked softer than troll fur, like really soft, and he wanted to see if it was soft, and now it was getting creepy so enough with that.)

Her skin was pale and looked to be made of some strange squishy material. Unriddled by any of the delicate carvings that usually covered troll skin, it was very flat and smooth. (And Draal was repulsed by that and really didn’t want to see if it felt as weird as it looked. Except he did. Deep down in the parts of his brain he did his best to ignore.)

The creature’s face was round and as pale as the rest of her. A small, vaguely triangular thing, (a nose he supposed), protruded from the center of the face. 

Her eyes were almond shaped, slanted, with a field of white surrounding the irises. Her eyes were very green, and framed by weird thin things attached to her eyelids that rose and fell as she blinked, and fluttered a bit every now and then.

Wide, round ears, (ears? ears) stuck out on either side of her head, parting the hair there like a curtain. Her mouth was smaller than a troll’s, and the pink curve of her lips was fuller

The creature’s neck was thin and led down into curving shoulders followed by slim arms, ending in rounded hands and elegant fingers, one hand grasping a silver candelabra to light the way through the dim halls.

The body was thin and curved much like that of a typical female troll’s, only far smaller. The legs were odd too, long and with tiny feet.

Her garb was a long gown molded to her form that dragged across the floor as she walked. It’s high neckline and long sleeves were in a cool shade of violet, as was the rest of the dress.

All in all, she was a lot smaller, softer, and less imposing than he had figured. 

(Of course, she still carried herself in a way that made her seem taller, and if she were a troll he would most likely not cross her. She exuded a calm air of confidence and icy indifference that Draal admired just a bit. Only a bit.) 

Disgust with a tinge of curiousity (please Draal, more than a tinge) fueled the words that broke the silence.

“What are you?”

If he had had an ounce of tact he would have immediately regretted his words upon uttering them, and had he an ounce of reason he would have apologized after the look of cold fury she shot his way. Of course Draal had neither.

“I,” she uttered icily. “Am a troll. I just don’t currently look like it.” A small huff of indignance, and the creature was silent again.

“Okay…” Draal began. That hadn’t really cleared anything up. If anything, he was more confused. If she was a troll, why did she look so odd? What had happened? “But, um, why do you look like…” A stone hand pointed to the fleshy form, gesturing up and down vaguely. “...that?”

The creature lifted one of the thin black caterpillars resting in an arch over her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together for a moment before answering.

“I was...cursed.” She began, words stilted. “To look like this...a human.”

Draal, being Draal, gave a grunt of noncommittal origin and meaning and glanced around the dusty halls of the castle.

“You live here?” He questioned, entering a different line of conversation. (Due to a short attention span, not any social ability.)

“Yes.” Still in an icy tone, spoken with a casual narrowing of her brows.

“It’s filthy.” 

The creature stopped then. Turning to glare at Draal, he felt like maybe he should have phrased it a bit differently.

“I’m sorry my castle doesn’t live up to your high standards. Please, allow my bountiful staff who currently aren’t all clocks and teapots to dust up around here.” 

“Touchy.” Draal grumbled. The sarcasm really wasn’t necessary. And also this creature was insane as well as strange looking. Her staff were clocks and teapots? Ugh. He rolled his eyes a bit.

The creature inhaled deeply and pressed her slim fingers to her temple. Setting down the candelabra, she muttered something along the lines of ‘should never have listened to Otto’.

Once she had exhaled in a long, exaggerated burst, she spoke again.

“This is as far as I go. Mr. Skaarbach, please show him to his rooms.” And she walked back down the hall, stance rigid. 

Draal watched her go, confused.

A sigh startled him. Turning, he saw no one but the abandoned candelabra on the tiled ground.

“This is going to take forever.” A funny voice, with a strange accent, spoke, emitting from no one Draal could see.

That was very odd. (And more than a little bit terrifying.)

Well then, he would just wait for ‘Mr. Skaarbach’ to ‘show him to his rooms’. 

Hopefully the mysterious troll arrived before any more disembodied voices floated through the hall and scared the beans out of him.

 

Because he had nothing better to do, he picked up the little candelabra, noting on it’s strange composition. Silver swirls led up from the base of it, which separated into three small sections, a hunk of wax with a steady flame burning on the end of each. The center section looked vaguely like a face, round and with a silver ‘mustache’ engraved under a bulbous nose.

Draal nearly dropped the thing when it spoke. (Well, not nearly. He dropped it.)

“OW!!” The accented voice Draal had heard earlier, (the voice that apparently came from a candelabra?!!?) exclaimed. One of the thing’s ‘arms’ rubbed it’s head(?). It’s comical little face was definitely scowling now.

“That was very rude!” It huffed, little metal mustache twitching.

“Um.” Draal mumbled. This was all very much the most confusing place he had ever been.

“Oh, of course!” The little thing smacked it’s waxy equivalent of a forehead. “I’m Mr. Skaarbach, but you can call me Otto.” It held out it’s wax hand, probably for Draal to shake.

“Um.” Draal still had no clue what was happening. He was being shown to his rooms...by a candelabra?

“Right! Of course! You’re right!” Shaking it’s head, the candelabra, (Otto?) shook it’s head, retracting the hand. It took a moment to blow out the flame with it’s little metal mouth, then stuck it’s hand out again.

Draal bent down and shook it. (Well what else was he supposed to do?!?) He dully noted the wax left on his hand and wiped it off surreptitiously on the wall, which coated his hand with dust. He ignored it.

Otto grinned.

“Right this way to your rooms! Follow me! Quickly now!” And then, with a grin, the candelabra hopped down the hall, clearing the shadows with his flickering light as he went.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Welcome to your quarters!” Otto exclaimed grandly, easing the wooden door open with a creak. 

The room would have been beautiful if it weren’t so dilapidated. 

Directly across from Draal a wide open window ushered in the cool night air. 

Draal curled his lip. 

“Drafty.”

Otto smiled apologetically at his complaint and hopped over to the window, probably moving to shut it. He strained for a bit with his wax hands, until finally slamming it shut. The candelabra took a moment to look triumphant before the entire window collapsed in on itself, frame tearing out of the wall as it fell. Otto stood there as the sound of glass shattering on the cobblestone below floated up to the room.

Draal raised an eyebrow.

“Well!” Otto exclaimed, jumping down from the windowsill and to the door. “Enjoy your stay! Auf wiedersehen!” And he was gone.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It didn’t take very long until after Otto had left for a sharp rapping to begin at the door, briskly continuing until Draal, sighing, crossed the threshold and swung open the door to greet a small lime clock with dark emerald markings etched in the dyed wood.

As soon as the door opened, without missing a beat, the clock began speaking, deep voice authoritative.

“Master Draal, your presence has been requested at dinner tonight.”

 

Draal blinked once, twice.

“What?”

It’s not that he didn’t understand, he just...didn’t understand? How did the clock know his name, first off. How was the clock SPEaKING his name, secondly. And thirdly, why was he, as a prisoner, being offered his own suite (drafty though it may be) and now being offered an invitation to dine with his captor? Something was up here, and he intended to figure it out.

The clock sighed, rolling it’s eyes. (Oh yes, and the clock had a face with a hawkish nose and thin lips as well, ingrained inside the circle of numbers meant to tell time.)

“Must I repeat myself? It seems I was expecting too much when I hoped for some intelligent company for once.” Another sigh. Draal wasn’t appreciating the sarcasm in this place.

“I heard you the first time.” Draal grunted. “When’s dinner?” He was going to dinner, that much Draal had figured out. If he wanted answers, holing himself up in his rooms wasn’t going to get him any.

“Right around now.” The clock replied. “I thought I should be sent up here sooner, but, surrounded by idiots as I am, here you find me.” 

“Fine. Lead the way.” Draal said, stepping out of his room.

The clock eyed him up and down critically, and Draal remembered he was wearing only his brown leather loincloth. (Well what did the thing expect? It’s not like he brought a change of clothes on his ‘rescue Kanjigar’ mission.)

“Very well.” The clock said finally. “Let’s hurry on our way then. The food is probably getting cold, and if you’re late, Claire will most likely have my hide.”

And so Draal found himself following yet another object down the halls of the mysterious castle, head swimming with questions he hoped had answers.


	7. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little candelabra bowed with a flourish as the doors opened once again, ushering in a tea wagon, followed by dishes of steaming cat meat carried in by an entourage of assorted dishes and other household objects.
> 
> Atop the tea wagon perched a slim teapot, dark violet and in the shape of a little person, hand on hip with the other arm outstretched. (Another member of Nomura’s odd ‘staff’, Draal presumed.) The tea wagon wheeled it’s way next to Draal’s seat, moved by unknown forces.
> 
> The teapot atop it curtsied as well as a teapot can and began to speak in a clear, high voice.
> 
> Draal was barely fazed.

Dinner was interesting, to say the least. (And short lived, though not the shortest meal Draal had ever had.) (If you could call it a meal when no one really ate anything.)

Let me explain.

Draal, led by the small green clock, entered the dining room at roughly half an hour after nightfall.

The dining hall was mostly occupied by a massive oak table, stretching the length of the room with many seats resting, forlornly empty, in various askew positions. However, compared to the rest of the castle, it was a fairly clean room, in pretty good condition despite the emptiness.

Draal was escorted to a chair, thankfully free of dust. There he sat in silence for what seemed like forever. The whole time the clock stared at him distastefully. It was the most uncomfortable five minutes of Draal’s life. (Not really. There had been worse. Most of them involving his father.)

Finally, the sillence ended with a startling bang as the doors were flung open and Otto, the little candelabra from earlier, stumbled into the room.

“Miss Nomura will not be joining us tonight.” Otto panted, looking like he had run (hopped) all the way there.

The clock scowled. 

“Whyever not?”

“She didn’t say. But she was very obstinate about it.” Otto responded.

“Did she throw you off the tower again?” The clock sighed, looking exasperated. Otto nodded grimly. The clock sighed again before turning to Draal.

“I suppose dinner will be served now.” 

Then both the candelabra and the clock exited, leaving Draal alone.

So the creature was called ‘Nomura’. Interesting. Certainly sounded trollish enough. She had said she was cursed. Perhaps the clock and candelabra had been as well, which would explain why they were talking and moving and such. But why were they cursed? And by who? Draal knew of many trolls with magical capabilities, but he had never heard of the ability to turn trolls into ‘humans’.

If anything, this made things more complicated. Draal had been hoping to question his captor…Miss Nomura. But apparently that was not an option. He would have to grill the staff instead.

Speaking of the staff...as if on cue, Otto reentered the dining hall, smiling cheerily. 

“Mein lieber Herr, it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you here tonight. Now, we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair, as the dining room proudly presents...your dinner!” 

The little candelabra bowed with a flourish as the doors opened once again, ushering in a tea wagon, followed by dishes of steaming cat meat carried in by an entourage of assorted dishes and other household objects.

Atop the tea wagon perched a slim teapot, dark violet and in the shape of a little person, hand on hip with the other arm outstretched. (Another member of Nomura’s odd ‘staff’, Draal presumed.) The tea wagon wheeled it’s way next to Draal’s seat, moved by unknown forces.

The teapot atop it curtsied as well as a teapot can and began to speak in a clear, high voice.

Draal was barely fazed. 

“Hello! I'm Claire. I’m so excited you’ll be joining us tonight. I hope we can make your stay as enjoyable as possible.” A pleasant smile graced the painted porcelain face, and Draal, hearing a scoff, noticed the small lime teacup previously obstructed from view.

“Ha! C’mon sis, ain’t nobody buying that for a second. Kid’s a prisoner ‘ere, same as you an’ I.” ‘Claire’’s smile faded a bit at the teacup’s gruff voice. 

“And that’s Enrique.” She sighed, brow furrowed. “My little brother. He can be...obnoxious” 

“Ey now! That was uncalled for.” The teacup, Enrique, huffed. “Y’know sis, yer a real pain in the neck sometimes.”

“Oh, I’m a pain in the neck?” Claire responded, indignant. “You never have a nice thing to say about anything, and what’s more-”

“Claire, Enrique, please!” Otto interjected, clambering up the table leg. “We mustn’t bicker! We have a guest!” Now standing in the center of the table, Otto procured a waxy grin, silver eyes sparkling. “Besides, wouldn’t want to distract from the main attraction.” Clearing his throat dramatically, Otto smoothed his metal mustache before opening his mouth wide and belting out notes, off key and off tempo and far from anything that would qualify as good music.

“BeEeeeeEEEEEEEEE oUr GUeSssSt! BeE ouR gUEST!!!” Draal sat placidly through all four or so seconds of the horrid display before the doors banged open and the clock stomped in, fuming.

“OTTO. What. IN THE NAME OF DEYA THE DELIVERER. Are you DOING?” The clock shrieked. “I could hear you all the way upstairs!!! WHAT did I tell you about impromptu musical numbers?!?!”

The candelabra rolled his eyes.

“My, my, Stricklander, didn’t realize you were such a party pooper. OH WAIT, NEVER MIND.” Otto sulked, scowling.

“URgh. NO musical numbers.” The clock waved a hand to finalize it. Otto pouted. The clock, apparently Stricklander, sighed.

“Off the table, Otto.” Stricklander huffed.

“‘Off the table Otto’. ‘No musical numbers Otto’. ‘Otto, put those gnomes back’. PAH.” Otto muttered mockingly, begrudgingly clambered off the table. 

“Yeah, this is all great and such, but I’m just gonna go now…” Draal blurted after a few moments of silence, rising suddenly and turning to leave. (He could get answers later, and amusing as it was to watch a teapot, teacup, candelabra and clock squabble, he’d rather spend the night looking around the castle and plotting escape than stick around the dining hall all evening.)

“Nein!” Otto screeched frantically, pattering over to the big blue troll and planting himself firmly in front of him. “Fräulein Nomura would NOT want you clunking around her castle with no supervision. I’m afraid I can not allow you to go.”

“Uh huh.” Draal nodded briefly, then forged ahead, completely ignoring the little candelabra rapidly stumbling and flailing in an attempt not to be crushed.

“Oh Otto, might as well let him go.” Claire’s voice called from behind Draal. “He’s going to do it anyway, nothing we can do to stop him. And he’s a guest, not a prisoner. He should be treated respetuosamente, sí?”

“I suppose…” Otto muttered, looking unsure. 

“Oh please Otto. It’s not as if you have too much power around here anyways.” Stricklander interjected. “Master Draal, you may explore the castle. Be warned however, it’s far more dangerous outside at night than inside. And of course...stay out of the West Wing. Understood?”

Draal was already three quarters of the way to the door. (It was funny, really, how a little clock thought he could boss around a huge warrior troll.) He nodded, made a vague grunt of confirmation, which seemed sufficient for the clock, and strode out of the dining hall. (He hadn’t eaten, no, but he wasn’t really particularly hungry. Being captured by a strange flesh beast seemed to take a lot out of one’s appetite.)

And now all Draal could think about was the blasted West Wing. He walked every inch of the East Wing, surveyed every room and door there, examined the foyer. But he kept wondering what was in the West Wing.

Nomura’s quarters?

Where she kept her other captives?

A ferocious beast? 

The mystery plagued him as the night wore on, and finally he cracked.

Blast it, he wasn’t going to listen to some clock!

If he was condemned to the castle, than rules be blasted, he was going into that bloody West Wing if it killed him. (Which it probably would.)

Besides, he was going to break and head there eventually. Better sooner than later, Draal mused, climbing up the dusty stairs to whatever ‘Mysteries of the West Wing’ awaited him.

(This could only end badly.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or some kudos.
> 
> (VALIDATE ME PLEASE)
> 
> Have a nice day.


	8. The West Wing

The West Wing was, unsurprisingly, as grimy and dilapidated as the rest of the castle. Spiraling stone steps led up to a darkened room. Through the shadows Draal could make out the general size of the room, round and large with a huge window taking up one wall. Tattered curtains lay on the floor, and the floor was littered with indistinct objects, scattered about, broken. In the middle of the carnage sat a flickering violet crystal, lighting the room faintly from a tall glass case. Littered around the crystal were small, blackened fragments of something.

Draal turned around slowly, surveying the room, and, scan complete, stepped toward the center of the room, toward the glowing crystal washing the walls in dim purple light.

The blue troll stared intently at the crystal. Closer now, he could see various scars in it’s surface, perhaps where pieces had been chipped off. 

Closer still, Draal realized there was writing engraved in the crystal. Difficult to make out, yes, but very much there.

Leaning down until his nose bumped against the glass dome housing the crystal, Draal squinted at the words.

Only a few were legible. Cursed...love...death…

Nothing comprehensive. Draal huffed in annoyance as his breath fogged up the glass, which only served to fog it up more.

It only took a small struggle and several whispered curses for Draal to undo the clasps and fling of the top of the dome. (The glass dome then shattered against the wall. Draal estimated he didn’t have much time to read the crystal after that blunder. Urgh.)

Scooping the crystal up deftly, (read: clumsily), Draal brought it up to his face, glaring at it intently. (Even though the light the crystal was giving off would have him seeing spots as soon as he set it down.)

He didn’t even get a chance to make out the first word before the door slammed open with a BANG, startling Draal to the extent he nearly dropped the crystal. (As it was, he fumbled with it quite a bit. It wasn’t impressive.)

“GET OUT.” Nomura’s voice rang, loud enough that Draal was sure Vendel back at Troll Market could hear it, and certainly loud enough to leave his ears ringing. “NOW.”

That wasn’t going to do. Draal would live in this filthy, drafty castle, but he would NOT be bossed around by a stupid flesh-thing. 

“What is your deal?!” Draal growled. Nomura looked sufficiently enraged at his statement, and then her eyes fell on the crystal clutched in Draal’s hand and something akin to panic flickered across her eyes as she screamed ‘GIVE ME THAT’ in a way that set Draal’s blood boiling.

“I won’t take orders from you, creature.” He hissed. (Yes he knew her name now, but creature had an extra ring of spite to it and would probably offend her more.)

“You will if you want to stay here.” Nomura hissed back, stepping closer and snatching at the crystal before Draal could attempt to get a firmer grip on it.

“I don’t WANT to stay here. The staff is insane and the hostess is horrifying.” Draal snapped, now empty arms folding together defiantly.

Nomura’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Then leave then. Go ahead. Walk out of this castle. I don’t have to put up with this. Otto is a fool and so are you. I should never have…” She trailed off, brow furrowing and hands flying up to tug at her hair in frustration.

“I WILL leave!” Draal huffed, stomping forward.

And he stomped right out of the castle true to his word, past Otto and Stricklander and Claire and Enrique, ignoring them when they pleaded him to stop.

The gate swung open easily, and slammed shut satisfyingly.

And Draal, in that moment of fury, didn’t even care that the castle was in the middle of Gum-Gum territory that he had just marched straight into.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” Otto shrieked. The poor candelabra’s face was contorted so viciously, one would think he was about to implode. “THAT WAS MY ONLY CHANCE TO STOP BEING A KANDELABER!!!”

Behind him, Stricklander crossed his wooden arms and scowled.

“We can’t just let our key to the curse march out of here.”

“And into Gum-Gum territory no less! At night! He could be killed!” Claire interjected, pacing worriedly. (As well as a teapot can pace.)

“Hey hey hey, I’m sure there’ll be other troll dudes. We’ll be fine.” Enrique said reassuringly. (But he didn’t look too confident in his words.)

“Do you know how long it took for that one to show up?!? A hundred years. A HUNDRED YEARS!!!” Claire whirled on her brother, steaming (literally, because she was a teapot).

“Okay, so maybe I could have done that differently.” Nomura sighed, rubbing her temple. Her staff really needed to stop yelling.

“MAYBE YOU COULD HAVE DONE THAT DIFFERENTLY?!?!” Otto cried. “MAYBE YOU COULD HAVE DONE THAT DIFFERENTLY?!?!?!”

“FINE. I MESSED UP.” Nomura huffed. “I’ll just...go out there and get him back.” If he hadn’t already been killed or captured by Gum-Gums. There were a thousand ways this could go wrong, but she deemed it best not to share what everyone else was probably thinking.

“Yeh. Maybe you could do that.” Enrique rolled his eyes. Nomura didn’t dignify that with a response. She simply stood, grabbed her cloak and donned it, (bringing her curved and walked out of the castle, heels echoing emptily on the cold tile floor.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

So maybe Draal was in a bit of trouble. (But what else was new?)

Being surrounded by hostile Gum-Gums was not exactly on his to-do list. (Of course, neither had being captured by a flesh creature named Nomura and kept in her house of talking clocks. But details.)

Maybe he should have considered the fact that Gum-Gum territory would be filled with Gum-Gums, and maybe he should have considered that they would not be pleased by his presence.

However, as usual, Draal had acted without thinking and now found himself in a pot of trouble he hadn’t anticipated.

Okay, so. Draal could probably not fight five Gum-Gums at once, but if he threw the nearest one on the big one to the far left, that should cause enough of a distraction for him to nab a sword off of one of the smaller ones on the right before they all began charging at him.

Except for, uh oh, looks like they were all charging at him now so, new plan, time to punch as many as possible and roll over the rest. Just because that strategy never really worked in training didn’t mean it wouldn’t necessarily work now. Probably. But then, there wasn’t really anything else he could do, was there? (Except for run away, but that was not happening in a million years.) 

Shrugging off sensible thoughts with reckless abandon, he roared loudly, running full speed at the approaching Gum-Gums, fists clenched in preparation.

He grunted as his rocky shoulder slammed into one of the larger trolls, a shaggy one with curved horns and a ratty mane, and brought his fist up connecting solidly with the troll’s face.

Draal almost laughed at the shocked look on his adversary’s face. Until he was grabbed from behind by two of the other trolls.

The large troll he had punched rubbed his bruised jaw thoughtfully, smirking almost imperceptibly.

“Not bad, Son of Kanjigar.” the troll laughed.

Draal snarled in rage, desperately writhing in a futile attempt to throw off the Gum-Gums that were now pinning him to the ground. But though the blue troll was strong, he was no match for the brute strength of the two dark trolls trapping him.

“How do you know my father?” Draal growled, thrashing harder against his restraints.

“Your father is a fool, as are you." Draal roared at that wound to his pride, and his father's, and with a burst of strength flung the two Gum-Gums off of him. His success was quick-lived, however, as the startled trolls regained their bearing and pinned him down once more. 

“There's no one to save you or your father.” Bular laughed menacingly, throwing his head back, before he froze, and cocked an ear curiously.

An eerie melody echoed through the rocky plains. The Gum-Gums assembled were visibly unnerved by the seemingly whistled tune, glancing around suspiciously and muttering amongst themselves.

“Who's there?” Bular roared out. Only silence, the last wavering notes fading ominously. “Show yourself!!!” Bular yelled again. A mocking laugh sounded from behind the large troll, and he whipped around to confront the new enemy.

Draal felt the grip of his captors slacken slightly, and craned his short troll neck to the best of his abilities to see around Bular to the unseen foe (or ally, Draal hoped thought).

He couldn’t see anything except the dark mass that was Bular as the other troll launched forward at his opponent, and a split second later a figure leapt out of the way, black cloak swirling and arched swords glowing a red orange color. 

It was Nomura. Her face was not visible, but there were certainly no trolls with such a slight build, and the tense energy that crackled through her form regularly was clear as she danced through the Gum-Gum’s with ease, slashing and hacking with her swords. 

Draal was impressed. Despite the contempt he held for Nomura in general, it was in his nature to respect the feats warriors of prowess displayed in battle.

The Gum-Gums on either side of Draal must have been equally awed, and he shrugged them off of him with ease and delivered crushing blows, sending them slumping to the ground. That left, of course, three more evil trolls, including Bular, who was locked in combat with Nomura, the other two flanking him, offering what assistance they could with a punch that was dodged deftly. 

But the human was tiring, Draal could see, her pace slowing slightly and the strokes of her swords landing with less and less impact. If she was a proper troll, Draal could only imagine what a force she would be, but Nomura was made of flesh and no match for the stone beasts she faced.

Draal rushed to her aid, engaging Bular’s henchmen with vigor, plowing into them. They toppled like bowling pins, stumbling back up to be met with Draal’s fists. This was exhilarating for him, and though he was not his father, he was still a skilled warrior, with strength and training from the best of the best. The Gum-Gum’s barely stood a chance.

The two trolls had barely hit the ground when a loud WHUMP sounded, a strained cry, and something whizzed past Draal’s face and slammed into a rock fixture. Bular laughed, his harsh voice echoing through the open space, and Draal barely registered that it was Nomura sprawled against the rock before a fist collided with his face and he was sent reeling.

“Your little pet was quite impressive.” Bular spat, stalking towards Draal. “I’m curious as to where you found it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Draal growled, regaining his balance carefully. Bular gestured towards Nomura’s fallen form.

“It fights well for a fleshbag, though I question the logic of attacking me with such a weak thing.”

Draal kept quiet, eyes trailing the Gum-Gum, noting how close he was getting. Bular would try to strike first, while Draal was still recovering from the blow. His best bet was to act like he was still shaking off the hit, then attack when Bular didn’t expect it.

“I assure you, I won’t be so easily defeated.”

Bular let out a laugh.

“You have all the bravado of your father, but none of the skill. It will take me barely a minute to-”

He was cut off as Draal yelled wildly and launched forward, knocking the Gum-Gum off his feet. The impact tossed Bular gnomes away and he landed with a crash and a rise of dust. He unsteadily regained his footing and started back towards Draal, who lugged a rock at him. A grunt escaped before he crumpled to the ground. Draal brushed his hands together, satisfied with his work, and turned to Nomura.

This was his opportunity. He could find his way back to Troll Market, escape from the castle, return with a fantastic story to tell everyone, see his father again, leave the pathetic human laying on the ground and go home. The crystals were already beginning to glow faintly; morning was near. 

But

But Nomura didn’t look like she was getting up anytime soon. Her skin was paler than it had been earlier that night, almost white, and her breathing was shallow. Not to mention she hadn’t moved at all.

Draal frowned. He shouldn’t care what happened to his captor, he should take this opportunity and get out of there. 

But

But that would hardly be noble, leaving her out to (possibly) die, and she hadn’t done anything purposefully cruel as of yet, besides kidnap his father, and she had fought well, had saved him, fought with him, and what kind of warrior would he be to leave someone he had fought with wounded in enemy territory.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the flickering light of Troll Market faintly in the distance, then back to Nomura, who was looking worse as the thin light illuminated her pallid features.

Draal huffed out a curse and picked up the broken human carefully, starting off towards the miniature figure the castle cut out on the horizon.

He was really too virtuous for his own good.


	9. Nomura Is Nice (I've Run Out Of Good Chapter Titles)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left kudos or comments. I appreciate them soo much, I'm just too socially awkward to reply to comments without suffering a partial breakdown and agonizing over everything for eternity. This story has been really fun thus far, and I like to think I'm considerably better at writing in character since I began this, so I will eventually be editing past chapters, once these are finished. Because I'm a horrific procrastinator. Thank you for your support, again, and enjoy :)

Nomura woke to a loud clanging noise and the sound of shattering glass. Her head throbbed and she opened one eye slowly to see that blue troll standing over a metal tray and a spray of glass shards that lay pathetically on the floor. His expression was comically shocked, more so when he looked at her scowling face.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed. Nomura closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead, noting the aching pain that lingered in every part of her body.

“Apparently.” She frowned at the bruises on her arm. “Though I wish I weren’t.”

Draal huffed.

“You’ve been asleep for days. I was beginning to think you were dead.”

“No thanks to you, I’m sure. Who ran away and was attacked by Gum-Gums? Because it certainly wasn’t me.” 

“Forgive me for wanting to leave this wretched castle.” 

“I’m sorry it isn’t up to the high standards they set down at the blacksmith’s shop.” Nomura spat.

“I’ll have you know that I am a warrior.” 

“Like your father, I presume.”

“Yes. He’s the pride of Troll Market.”

“He must be very disappointed.” Nomura glanced at Draal out of the corner of her eye, contempt oozing freely.

Draal spluttered.

“I-he...he isn’t!”

“You don’t sound very sure of that.”

“I don’t have to! Anyone in Troll Market will tell you that I-”

“That you’re a pompous idiot?”

“Forget it. I don’t need to explain myself to you. What would you know of Troll Market anyway?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You live up here all alone in this giant castle. Even before you were ‘human’, I imagine no one complained about this arrangement.”

“And I’m sure no one is shedding any tears about you joining me!”

Draal exhaled sharply and levelled her with a cold glare.

“You don’t know anything about me, so stop pretending that you do.”

“I know enough.” 

“No.” Draal’s eyes bored into Nomura. “No, you don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nomura didn’t see Draal for the rest of the day. She didn’t see anyone, really, seething with rage at the insolence of that rocky blue idiot for hours until Claire entered with tea, insisting Nomura drink. Nomura had already reminded Claire several million times since the transformation she didn’t feel comfortable drinking tea that had been brewed inside her housekeeper’s teapot body, but she was too tired to resist today, knowing how stubborn everyone in this castle was.

The two sat in silence for a long time as Nomura drank slowly, grateful at least that Claire had salvaged a cup that wasn’t Enrique.

“He helped look after you, you know.” 

Claire spoke suddenly, startling Nomura so that hot tea sloshed out of the cup. She cursed internally and wiped it off, maintaining outward calm.

“Who?” She had a pretty good idea who her housekeeper was talking about, but-

“Draal.”

Nomura’s eyes narrowed and she sipped her tea carefully.

“I see.”

“He carried you back to the castle apparently, didn't leave your side for a day or so. And…” Claire trailed off, squinting pensively at the wall.

If Nomura’s expression was any sharper it would have cut diamond.

“And…? Is there some sort of big revelation at the end? I don't understand.” 

Claire's eyes snapped to Nomura and she sighed heavily.

“I'm just saying I don't think this is as doomed as you believe.”

Nomura snorted.

“I'm sure it's not.”

Claire huffed and shook her head.

“On second thought, if you're going to keep being your grouchy self, we probably aren't going to get anywhere.” 

“Grouchy?” 

“Yes, grouchy. You catch more gnomes with honey than vinegar.” Claire chided.

“How many gnomes have you caught, then?” 

The little teapot gave Nomura a baleful look and turned to leave.

“Enough. Rest, Nomura. I'll send Enrique to check on you in a little.”

And then Nomura was alone again.

“Grouchy!” Nomura scowled and set her cup down on the crystal table next to her bed. She wasn’t grouchy. She was...realistic. Claire didn’t know what she was talking about. (At times like these it was always best to forget about all the times Claire had been very right and just focus on the few instances where the teapot had been WRONG. Like now.)

Draal had some basic troll level of compassion. So what? It didn’t mean they were suddenly going to be able to lift the curse and live happily ever after just because he was not a TOTAL jerk.

Nomura rubbed her forehead.

This was impossible.

~~~~~~~~

Enrique came in a little later, surprisingly with the same case as his sister. Which was funny, seeing as he was the last troll-turned-teacup who should be talking about not being a pain, which Nomura was quick to point out.

“Jus’ because I’m not ‘appy all the time doesn’t mean you can’t be a little bit nicer. After all, our lives don’ depend on me cuddlin’ up to the big guy.”

“‘Cuddling up’ isn’t my strong suit, you know.” Nomura huffed.

“Whatta ya mean? You used to do it all the time, with those big parties an’ all. You had those guys trippin’ over themselves ta get at you.”

“That’s true, but I’m a bit out of practice-”

“Oh I see!” Enrique cackled. “Yer gettin’ old. I guess I shouldn’ pressure ya inta somethin’ you can’t do.”

“I could still do it if I wanted to.” 

“Sure.”

The insufferable smirk on his face was just asking to be slapped off.

“I could.”

“Prove it.” 

Nomura scowled. She knew exactly what Enrique was trying to do. And she didn’t want to fall for it, but no harm could really come from proving Enrique wrong, could it? I mean, she’d be agreeing with something she had already vetoed, which she was extremely averse to, but on the other hand, she’d WIN this argument, and probably save her life and her staffs’. And she’d get to be a troll again...

“Alright, I will.”

“HA!” 

Enrique’s triumphant cackle was enough to make Nomura immediately regret her choice.

She grimaced.

“Is it too late to take that back?”

“Yup!” Enrique crowed. “Imma go tell the others. I’m gonna be a troll again!” 

Nomura raised a brow.

“Glad you have such faith in me.” she said with a slight smirk.

“...maybe. I’m maybe gonna be a troll again.” he revised.

Nomura laughed softly despite herself as the teacup bounded out of the room before she remembered what she had just agreed to. 

Blast it.

~~~~~~~~

This was going to go FINE. Perfectly. Nomura had faith in her abilities. She had spent the remainder of the previous day remembering the tricks of her past trade and formulating a careful plan of action. A plan of action which WOULD NOT fail, despite the realization that she no longer had her looks or connections on her side, so she would have to seduce the fool with her PERSONALITY.

Luckily, her injuries were nearly gone after all those days of rest, and Nomura had been given a clean bill of health by ‘nurse’ Claire, who was extremely pleased that Nomura had listened to her. In fact, all of her staff were unusually cheerful. 

The good mood was contagious, once Nomura took a deep breath and allowed herself not to be irritated by it. This wouldn’t work if she was…’grouchy’.

Draal was in the library. (Which was intriguing. Nomura hadn’t pegged him as the type to read in his spare time.) Nomura opened the doors slowly and stepped into the room. Draal stood in front of one of the tall mahogany bookshelves, glancing over as she made her way over and stopped next to him.

“You’re better.” He noted expressionlessly before turning back to the books.

“A little light headed and some nasty bruises, but yes, I am.” Nomura smiled. Draal only nodded. Nomura frowned.

“Look, about yesterday,” she shifted uncomfortably. “I’m...sorry. I shouldn’t have been so...ah, rude.”

Draal looked surprised. Nomura didn’t blame him. It had been incredibly difficult for her to squeeze that out. She tried very hard not to grimace.

“Hm. You were horrible. Apology accepted.” 

Nomura resisted the urge to snap at him. Silence settled again. She exhaled frustratedly.

“Looking for anything in particular?” She gestured to the bookcases slightly.

“Not really.”

“What do you like to read?”

Draal merely shrugged. Nomura spent a few seconds dissuading herself from strangling him. The lunk made conversation such a chore. But she wasn’t giving up yet.

“Thank you, by the way.” She began. Draal started and turned to her.

“For what?”

Nomura did not roll her eyes or sigh no matter how much she wanted to.

“Claire told me what you did, after the whole Gum-Gum thing. It was...noble. So thanks.”

“Oh. You’re welcome. I suppose I can thank you for rescuing me.”

Nomura nodded, and after a beat more of silence, slightly less uncomfortable this time, Draal spoke again.

“You fight well.”

“As do you.”

He smiled at the praise. (Nomura knew he would.)

“Yes. My father taught me quite a bit.”

She winced a little at the mention of Kanjigar. His expression sobred as well.

“Do you miss him?” Now was the time to tread carefully. 

“My father frequently goes on missions that last longer than my stay here has, but...yes, I suppose I do...miss him.”

Nomura looked at him, contorting her face like she was thinking. This had to seem spontaneous and natural, like she hadn’t spent all night carefully planning out how to be ‘nice’.

“I might be able to help with that,” she began.

“You can bring my father here?”

Nomura blinked.

“No.”

Draal’s face fell.

“Ah.”

“My power only extends to the castle. I can send trolls away, but not bring them back. But I can let you see him.”

“Really?”

Nomura nodded. 

“Follow me.”

She led him out of the library and through the castle. Draal was a bit more talkative now, and the conversation was easier as they made their way through the dusty halls.

“So what exactly is this ‘power’ you mentioned?” Draal asked, stomping along.

“Like what you saw when you first came here. I have limited control over things like the movement of doors and windows, and I can teleport trolls out if I concentrate. Only one a day, though, and only if I have enough energy. It’s strange, but no stranger than anything else here. A byproduct of the curse, I suppose.”

“And the curse...it turned you into this flesh thing, and I assume it is why your staff are teapots and candelabras.”

Nomura nodded, delegating not to react to the ‘flesh thing’ comment.

“Yes. It also made the castle invisible, among other things…” Like the aspect of it where Nomura was probably going to die if she didn’t manage this. But that didn’t seem like it would further her cause at all, so she deigned to keep it to herself.

“Invisible? But I very clearly saw it.”

“Very few trolls can, like you and your father. Even then, if they aren’t on the grounds, they can only catch sight of it once.”

“How do you know this?”

“You aren’t the only one to wander in here. Mostly it’s been stray trolls from other markets. Never Gum-Gums, though. Surprisingly.”

Of course, Nomura’s staff had their own theories on why the trolls who could see the castle were different than others, but Nomura spent an awful lot of time not dwelling on her past visitors. 

“That is curious.” Draal mused. Nomura could tell he was prepared to release more questions, but thankfully they had reached the West Wing by then.

Nomura ascended the stairs quickly and Draal followed. She led them to a wooden door with worn brass handles and withdrew a pair of keys from a pocket on her dress, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

The room was a familiar sight to Nomura, artifacts of various shapes, sizes, and colors seated on pedestals, waiting patiently for use.

“What is this?” Draal turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.

“My relic room.” Nomura flicked her hand and fire flared to life in the torches hanging on the walls, sending light into the shadowy crevices. “I keep a variety of artifacts in here. I used to collect them.” 

“What does this do?” Draal’s clumsy hands hovered over one of Nomura’s prize possessions, a clay pot decorated with delicate brush strokes, and she rushed to it’s rescue.

“Nothing.” she shoved him away as gently as possible. “Don’t touch it.”

“Why would you have it if it does nothing?”

“It’s art.” 

She frowned and dusted off the pot carefully. Draal snorted. She ignored it as well as she could.

“What did you want to show me?”

“Ah, yes. This.” Nomura walked to one of the corners of the room and picked up the object in question, pride spiking through her. It was extremely rare, and had cost her no small amount, but still she considered it one of her greatest conquests, aside from her pottery.

“Is that a-”

“Yes. A Fetch. I trust you know what these do?”

“To some extent.”

“Most Fetches provide portals, others provide merely sight, and are infinitely more valuable.”

“How is mere sight superior to being able to travel anywhere?”

“Not anywhere. A portal Fetch can only take you to one place, and even then, most of them are small, too small for any troll. With scrying Fetches, you can see anything you want, at any time. Information is an important asset, yes?”

Draal grunted.

“I suppose. And you can use this to…?”

“Show you where your father is.” Nomura affirmed. Draal had made his way across the room when she wasn’t looking apparently, and now stood peering over her shoulder at the small artifact, a spiky circle embedded with gems. 

“Really?”

“Indeed. In case you had any doubts about where I teleported him.” Nomura passed a hand over the Fetch and concentrated on Kanjigar intently. After a moment the Fetch crackled with blue sparks and a swirling vortex appeared in the center of the circle, slowly melting into the image of the troll warrior himself, speaking with a large troll Nomura vaguely recognized. 

“He’s talking to Vendel.” Draal noted, fixated on the image.

“That old goat is still alive?” Nomura mused, half to herself. 

As they watched, the conversation seemed to grow more intense, Kanjigar throwing his arms about in broad, angry movements as Vendel shook his head firmly. Eventually the older troll slammed his staff on the ground and stormed away, leaving Kanjigar with a scowl. The image sparked, shook, then fizzled out. 

Nomura glanced at Draal apologetically. 

“It can only display an image for a little bit before it needs to recharge.”

Draal was silent. That was strange. At last he looked up from the Fetch. 

“...thank you.”

Nomura blinked. Once. Twice. Nodded gracefully. Set the Fetch back on it’s stand. 

“We can look tomorrow, if you wish.”

“I would like that.”

Nomura nodded again and they left the room. When they had exited the West Wing Draal determined he would return to the library with a short smile and asked if she would like to come as well. Nomura debated joining him for a few seconds before deciding against it. She had already been nice enough to appease Claire and Enrique, and besides, she suddenly felt very winded and it was probably best she go back to her room and formulate a plan of action for tomorrow.

She declined politely and he shrugged and left and Nomura watched him make his way down the halls, stumbling over a curtain and cursing at it. Something fluttered in her chest. That couldn’t be healthy. She frowned and turned away. She would ask Strickler about it later. Right now she had somewhere to be.


End file.
